Precipice
by Rat-chan
Summary: A Game of Shadows  A slashy alternative to the end of the Reichenbach balcony scene. All the tension between Holmes and Moriarty draws them inexorably into a passionate, combatative kiss.


**Disclaimer: **The characters in this story are not mine. This story is purely written for fun (and a good deal of it) and not at all for profit.

**Notes: **This story was also written for a Live Journal kink meme prompt. This time, the request was for Holmes and Moriarty engaging in a passionate yet angry kiss rather than a simulated fight to the death (although I added a different kind of simulation...).

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><p>"Check, and incidentally..." Holmes pauses briefly, as the currents of energy and emotion that has flowed around and between the two adversaries intensifies. "Mate." The varied meanings of the word eddy around them. Two heated emotions, different in nature though not incompatible, struggle for dominance of Moriarty's features. The exaggerated rise and fall of Holmes' breastbone reveals <em>his<em> fight against the acceleration of his respiration. An inexorable current draws Moriarty forward, closing the remaining distance between them. It tugs at them both as they lock gazes and robs them of their breath as they resist its pull.

Until it overwhelms them.

It is impossible to tell which of them moves first. At the same time Moriarty's fingers twist themselves in Holmes' dark hair, the detective's good hand latches onto the professor's lapels. Heads tilt in synchronicity and mouths open in unison before lips, teeth, and tongues meet in an ineluctable clash.

Their fingers clench spasmodically as they shift position against one another. Moriarty nips at Holmes' lower lip, first lightly and then hard, drawing blood and a stifled gasp. His tongue darts in, taking advantage of the opening and savoring the metallic flavor of their kiss. But Holmes does not allow the advantage, and it is Moriarty's turn to loose a small hum of pleasure as the detective softly clamps his teeth around his tongue and _sucks._ A small grate of teeth against teeth vibrates in the air as the professor pushes against his opponent, tongue sinuously working out of his grip to claim his mouth deeper, more forcefully. Holmes' own tongue strokes under it, beside it, striving to wrestle around to regain control.

As their pulses race in a dizzying thrum in their bodies and in the decreasing space between, paradoxically, time slows...

_Use grip on lapels to push down onto table. Right knee up between legs to brush growing arousal. Continue friction as breath hitches, breaking kiss. Fingers up to tease receptive spot on back of neck as teeth work at bow tie..._

_**Come now, Holmes. You don't really think I'm so easily subdued...? Move with sideways push, left hand to right shoulder, inducing hesitation. Use momentum to swing around to furs. Foot hooked behind injured ankle to collapse onto pile...**_

_Maintain grip on jacket and exploit tangle of limbs to immobilize. Upward thrust of hips to press groins together in slow, solid rub. Right hand around to slip into waistband at small of back..._

_**Use advantageous position to deliver hard counter-thrust. Sharp tug of right hand in hair, baring throat. Sucking kiss to sensitive spot behind earlobe timed with drawn-out reverse grind of pelvis...**_

_Painful-pleasant brush of beard on neck and flow of blood to groin render thought and response sluggish... Left hand up to feverishly pull off tie and open collar. Right hand down to hip to knead overheated flesh as lips and teeth brush at exposed throat..._

_**Left hand into furs to support weight. Shift right hand to nape of neck to intensify assault. Speed of thrusts increases...**_

_Calves lock around thighs, both hands clutch for leverage to match accelerated rhythm of thrusts..._

_**Mutual rocking of hips frenzied but exquisitely timed. Claim mouth again as pressure mounts, pace surges, and...**_

The two men draw away, drops of red-tinged saliva dropping to the stone floor. The air between them mists with their heated exhalation. The forgotten timepiece on the table clicks as the two nemeses stare at one another, both panting... Neither knowing what to do next.

The current flows around them, tugging, as they stand at a precipice.

Deciding whether or not to fall.


End file.
